


Exhibition

by lamardeuse



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-07
Updated: 2010-05-07
Packaged: 2017-10-09 08:37:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/85173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lamardeuse/pseuds/lamardeuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rodney discovers a new spectator sport.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Exhibition

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the MMoM on Livejournal.

When Teyla managed to wrap up the trade negotiations on PX-2546 four hours early, John was tempted to hug her, which was how he knew he was getting a little weird about this whole – whatever the hell he had going on with Rodney. Because they'd been stuck on this planet for three days of feasting and ceremony and bowing, and John hadn't seen Rodney or talked to him or been naked with him in three and a half days, and he missed seeing Rodney and talking to him and being naked with him, and for John Sheppard, that definitely fit into the weird category.

Teyla, for her part, kept shooting him sly looks from the passenger seat of the jumper as they lifted off. John fidgeted with the controls, pretending he was calibrating something. Finally giving up, he looked at her and smiled.

“Thanks,” he said.

She inclined her head. “It was my pleasure, John. I could tell you were – eager to return.”

John's smile froze. She knew. She totally knew. How had she found out? Or maybe she just suspected, and was trying to feel him out to see if he'd spill his guts. Well, she was wrong; he was tougher than she –

Then she reached over and patted his arm, and he heard himself blurt, “I'm seeing Rodney,” and oh, Christ, how did she _do _that?

The smile didn't change. “I am very happy for you.”

“You don't sound surprised.”

“Perhaps that is because I am not.”

“How did you – ”

She waved a hand. “I can't honestly remember the exact moment I was certain; it was more of a...gradual impression. But had I had any doubts, they would have been dispelled by the fact that Rodney attempted to bribe me with his hoard of chocolate if I managed to wrap up the negotiations early.”

John buried his face in his hands. “Oh, God.”

“Not that I can be coerced so easily, you understand.”

“Of course not.”

She sighed dreamily. “Even if it is Godiva.”

John stared at her and tried to figure out when his life had taken a turn for the completely bizarre. Oh, right, that would have been about three years ago when he'd nearly been knocked out of the sky by a missile that looked like a glowing squid.

“John?”

“Hm?”

Teyla nodded at the front window. “Should you not be steering?”

“It's on autopilot,” John said confidently, then snuck a peek out of the corner of his eye to make sure it actually was. “Perfectly safe.” Which was more than he'd be able to say for Rodney once he got through with him.

He shifted in his seat. “You, uh, you didn't really...”

“Compromise a valuable negotiation for the sake of a pound of chocolate?” she asked, arching an eyebrow at him in the way that meant _you clearly have a mental age of twelve_. “No. By coincidence, the Chancellor had an urgent last-minute commitment arise and had to cut the meetings short. We still concluded our business, but without the closing ceremony that usually follows such negotiations. The Chancellor was very apologetic, but it could not be helped.”

“Oh,” said John, feeling like a moron. “Well, I figured it was – uh. Something like that.”

Teyla's mouth turned up at the corner. “And I would hardly be so unethical as to claim credit for it when we return.”

“Of course not,” John said, smirking. “But if Rodney comes to that conclusion on his own, it wouldn't be your fault.”

“I suppose,” Teyla mused.

John nudged the jumper toward its final approach to the gate. Rodney might have spilled the beans about their relationship, but knowing that he was out of a pound of Godiva was a comfort in John's time of trial.

    
    
    
    
 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

    
    
    
    
 

For a guy who was so eager to get John home, Rodney took a damned long time answering his door.  Granted, it was after twenty-one hundred on Atlantis by the time they got back, but Rodney wasn't exactly an early-to-bed kind of guy.

That was right where he'd been by the looks of him, though. His hair was a mess, his fuzzy blue dressing gown looked hastily tied and his feet were bare, and John did not find any of that appealing.

Rodney's eyes widened to saucers when John pushed past him into his quarters. “Wow, she's good,” he breathed.

“Yes, she's good,” John agreed acidly. “And she's amazing when she's been promised expensive chocolate.”

Rodney's ears reddened. “I didn't – well, okay,” he said, shoulders slumping. “Maybe I did.”

“Sweetheart,” John said in his most saccharine voice, “I didn't know we were sharing our happiness with our friends.”

Rodney waved a hand. “Oh, please, like they don't already know.”

John folded his arms. “There's a difference between knowing and _knowing_.”

“Look, I haven't talked about it with anyone from Earth, all right? And I explained to Ronon about the military thing, so your big gay secret is safe from the – ”

“_Ronon _knows?”

Rodney rolled his eyes. “He asked me! What was I supposed to say? I took a chance on the whole homophobia thing, let me tell you. I didn't know if his society was as pathological as American culture about it, but in the end I decided the truth was less likely to get my head ripped off.”

“And?” John demanded after a few moments' silence.

Rodney smirked. “If we ever get married, he wants to be best man – for both of us. He _hugged _me.” Rodney stared off into space. “He's been doing that a lot lately, by the way; I'm not quite sure what that means – ”

“Rodney.”

“ – who knows, maybe he's secretly pining for me and eventually you two will have to fight a duel to the death for my affections – ”

John closed the distance between them. “Is this some kind of weird fantasy I should know about?”

Rodney's eyes darted over his face, then away. “No...”

John chuckled. “I ought to be jealous.”

Rodney reddened. “No, it's just that occasionally I may picture both of you sweaty and shirtless – okay, you're naked – and – ” He didn't get any further in his fantasy, because John chose that moment to lean in and kiss him soundly. Rodney returned it eagerly, arms going around John's back and holding him tightly. Man, it had been a huge turn-on in the beginning to realize just how strong Rodney actually was; now it was – well, okay, so it was still a pretty big turn-on.

As hot as Rodney was making him, though, it appeared that John was having more of an effect, if what was happily poking him in the leg was any indication. Grinning, John broke away and murmured, “Wow, now I am jealous.”

Rodney stared at him, confused, until John jiggled his hip against Rodney's arousal. His already ruddy cheeks turned positively volcanic, and suddenly all the separate bits of evidence slammed into place.

“You were jerking off when I showed up,” John said flatly.

“Wh-what makes you say that?” Rodney stammered.

John cocked his head at him. “What are you so nervous about? It's not like I don't know you jerk off.”

Rodney actually squirmed under John's hands. “Could we stop talking about this and resume the sex, please?”

But John was already on a different track. “Jerking off is sex.”

Rodney rolled his eyes. “No, it's not. It's a poor substitute for the real thing.”

“Not when I get to watch.”

Rodney actually looked shocked. “Wh-what?” he squeaked.

John stared at him. Why was Rodney acting like a man who'd just been asked to molest farm animals? “Wait, are you telling me you never – in front of somebody?”

Rodney stiffened. “Of course not. Why would that be anything anyone would...” He trailed off, licking his lips nervously. “Well. I suppose I don't see the point.”

John's gut knotted as he realized what Rodney had been about to say, and once again it hit him like a sledgehammer that although they didn't talk about it, Rodney seemed to have very little idea of how hot he actually was. Sure, he was confident of his ability in bed, but that was technique, something you could study and practice; in the end, John imagined that Rodney figured it was kind of like knowing how to fix a DHD. The whole concept that Rodney could get John worked up just by lying there naked – or hell, by grinning like a dork when he’d found out the _Daedalus _had brought in a whole crate of blue jell-o – well, that was something Rodney still didn't really get.

“So what you're telling me,” John said, sliding his hands up Rodney's chest and hooking them around the back of his neck before leaning in, “is that you wouldn't like to watch _me _jerk off?”

Rodney made a small, half-choked sound. “Well, certainly, but that's – that would be – ”

“Almost as hot as me getting to watch you,” John finished for him.

Rodney swallowed visibly. “Um. Okay?”

John rewarded him with a slow, thorough kiss. “That's the spirit,” he murmured, reaching for the sash of Rodney's robe. He shoved the robe off Rodney's shoulders and onto the floor, then made short work of his boxers. “Get on the bed.”

Rodney licked his lips again. “Where will you be?”

John bit Rodney's chin. “Where do you want me?”

“I might not feel so ridiculous if you're on the bed with me,” Rodney said primly.

“Okay,” John said easily. Rodney nodded, then hopped up on the narrow bed, making room for John beside him. John shrugged out of his jacket and stripped off his thigh holster, then took off his boots and lay down.

“Is that all you're taking off?” Rodney demanded.

“For now,” John drawled. His gaze travelled from Rodney's cock to his face, and Rodney turned even redder. John wouldn't have thought that was possible.

“Okay, well, ah, here goes,” Rodney said, with a weird brightness, like he was announcing the weather. He screwed his eyes shut, then grabbed at his dick, wrapping a hand around it so tightly John was tempted to wince.

“I feel stupid,” Rodney sighed, but before he could continue, John covered Rodney's mouth with his own, and his complaint turned into a groan.

“You look hot,” John murmured into his parted mouth. “But you gotta relax or you'll snap it off at the root. And that'll be a tragedy for both of us.”

Rodney let out a put-upon sigh, but he loosened his grip. John watched as he stroked his cock once, slowly, watched the head peek out past Rodney's curled fingers on the downstroke.

And just like that, John's own cock sat up and took notice again.

“Are you looking at me?” Rodney asked.

“Open your eyes and see,” John told him.

Rodney's eyes stayed closed. “I – ”

“Rodney.” John brushed his lips over Rodney's chin. “Watch me watching you. You'll like it, I promise.”

After a few moments, Rodney finally opened his eyes. John smiled and kissed him briefly.

“Now show me,” he murmured.

Rodney stared at him for a moment, and then John saw his arm move. He slid his gaze away from Rodney's face and toward the main attraction.

Rodney had a nice, solid cock, nothing spectacular, but nothing to be ashamed of either. He was also uncut, and while John didn't have much experience with uncut guys, he'd been able to figure out pretty quickly that it was a whole lot of fun, because Rodney was so sensitive John could usually get him speaking in tongues by the end of a blowjob. Rodney's stroke was fairly even, with a little twist at the top of the upstroke. That little tidbit might come in handy the next time he wanted Rodney to see God.

He deliberately kept his hands away from major erogenous zones, but when Rodney started to flag, John cupped his shoulder and ran his fingertips over the smooth skin. “What are you thinking about?”

“How much I'd rather be jerking you off,” Rodney huffed.

“This isn't about me. Well, fine, it's about both of us. I like to watch you getting off. And I'd like to know what you do to yourself so I can do it to you next time.” He trailed two fingers over Rodney's collarbone. “So I can turn you on.”

Rodney chuckled. “You pretty much just have to show up to do that.”

Casually, John reached down and scraped at Rodney's right nipple with his nail. Rodney yelped and his cock pulsed in his hand.

“Okay,” Rodney breathed. “You can do that, too.”

John grinned, then watched as a bead of pre-come formed on the end of Rodney's dick. After a few moments, Rodney brushed a thumb over the head, smearing the come and making the tip glisten.

“God,” John murmured, involuntarily. His mouth watered, and shit, he wanted to be down there _now_, mouth stretched around that cock. It was perfect, and it was his, and he had to –

Rodney's free hand cupped the front of John's uniform pants; startled, John looked up and straight into Rodney's surprised face.

“You're – you really like this,” he whispered.

“That's what I've been trying to tell you,” John whispered back. Gently, he pushed Rodney onto his back with a hand to his shoulder, then reached down and touched his thumb to the head of Rodney's dick. When he stuck the thumb in his mouth and sucked, Rodney's eyes slammed shut.

“Don't stop,” John growled. Rodney drew in a ragged breath and obeyed. His strokes were suddenly shorter, sharper, and the measured rhythm became stuttering and desperate. John tried to soothe him with a caress to his hipbone, but Rodney was working toward a goal now, and it would take more than that to slow him down.

“You think about me when you do this?” John heard himself ask.

Rodney gasped, seemingly thrown by the question. “Who – else?” he ground out.

John hesitated, then rasped, “You think about me before we got together?”

Rodney frowned up at him. “Did you?”

Leaning down, John kissed him again. “Yeah.” He licked Rodney's earlobe. “In the shower. In bed. One time at the top of the control tower.”

Rodney's eyes widened. “Oh, my God.”

John grinned. “I was feeling kind of rebellious.” He looked down again and found Rodney's rhythm slowing, like he was trying to draw it out, not come right away. It was a promising sign. “What about you?”

“Y-yes,” Rodney stammered, like he knew he was being naughty but couldn't help himself. “I thought about you. Thought about – ” Rodney's rhythm faltered entirely.

“What?” John asked, rubbing the pad of his thumb over one of Rodney's nipples, then the other.

“Ah! I – I thought about fucking you. About you fucking me. Pretty much everything, really.”

“Mmmm,” John purred approvingly, trying for nonchalant even as his heart was hammering a tango in his chest. Rodney talked a lot, sure, but he didn't talk dirty, not like that, and wow, that was – 

Rodney stroked once, twice, almost lazy now; his other hand brushed his balls. “I have an – oh, yes – a very active imagination.”

John kissed him briefly. “Was I good?”

Another stroke, then another, each one a little faster, and Rodney's next words were panted. “God, you have no idea. I used to – Christ – think about you fucking me right after a mission, think about you pushing me against the wall and just – just shoving in – and I’d – I’d –  ”

Rodney wasn't the only one panting now. John wanted to run his mouth all over Rodney's body, but he couldn't have torn his eyes away from this if his life depended on it. Rodney's hand was moving so quickly now it was almost a blur, and his chest was heaving as though he were in the last mile of a marathon. Suddenly, he moaned and jerked, and then he was coming, his cock spurting messily under John's gaze.

“Jesus,” Rodney groaned, rolling to his side and pulling John into a sloppy kiss. “That was – I can't believe – ”

John kissed him again. “I can. You're – ” As usual, the words stuck in John's throat, but Rodney seemed to understand, because his eyes lit up and his smile turned wicked. Normally, John wouldn't be too sure about a Rodney who now had the potential to be arrogant about his intelligence _and _his sex appeal, but right at the moment he couldn't think of anything hotter.

Then Rodney bit him on the neck, and at that point John's cock suggested it might be a good idea to get naked. He sat up and began stripping off, but when he started on his pants, Rodney pushed his hands away and unzipped him, his gaze on John's face the whole time. He shoved John's pants and boxers down just enough, then stopped.

John's tongue darted out to wet dry lips. “Uh, you – ” he began, but Rodney was already rising up on his knees and turning away from him. The head of his bed was against the wall, and John watched his shoulders rise and fall as he seemed to gather himself. Then he leaned forward, forearms and palms braced against the wall, and rested his forehead on the backs of his hands.

“Like this,” Rodney whispered. His eyes were closed and the cheek turned to John was still ruddy from embarrassment, but he was asking for something he'd dreamed about, something he'd wanted John to do to him, and if hearing him talk about it was a turn-on, seeing it acted out was pure porn. “Like you – like you missed me so much you can't – ”

John was pressed up against him in a flash, warm, bare skin under his hands, his lips, and God, Rodney still thought this was only a fantasy, and John had to fix that right now. “I did, Rodney, I did,” he murmured into Rodney's shoulder blade. “I know I don't say it, but listen, this is – I mean, you're – ” He pressed his forehead against Rodney's back. Shit, shit, _shit_.

Rodney stiffened for a moment, then seemed to sag against John's chest. His eyes opened and he twisted his head around, looking John in the eye. John looked back, hoping like hell that his face would pick up where his mouth deserted him.

After what felt like years, Rodney's expression softened, and John started breathing again. “Oh,” Rodney said quietly, almost bashfully. “Well. That's good to know.”

John grinned and kissed him, hard and quick. “Yeah. So look, if I promise to fuck you against a wall next time, do you think we could try something more conventional? 'Cause right now I'd kind of like to get naked and touch you a lot.”

Rodney smiled one of those dorky smiles that against all reason drove John crazy with lust. “Is this some kind of weird fantasy I should know about?”

“Nah,” John murmured, leaning in to press his lips against the curve of that mouth. “It's the real thing.”

**Author's Note:**

> First published May 2007.


End file.
